Beauty From Pain
by AoSora.Minami
Summary: In Konoha, all is well. Students are graduating from the academy to become Genin and Jounin are flocking together to teach them. But disaster strikes as a dying missing nin lures the snake Orochimaru into the village.
1. Assignment Day

Her name is Kusanagi Yuki: self-appointed squad leader that specializes in taijutsu and genjutsu, advances in ninjutsu; pessimist, over sensitive; insomniac, narcoleptic; bad with insults, good with ass beating; average body with a heavy set of breasts, average looks, animalistic face, freckles, ice blue and lush green eyes (now a bloody shade of red), albino white hair (now dyed a deep purple), a fading scar winding around her forearm and up to her jaw (she received the wicked scar from the calamity that racked her legendary family, from a dark-haired man with a too-long tongue and the glowing blade that belonged to the Kusanagi clan in the ages that it had to be under heavy protection); daughter of the late Kusanagi Midori and Kusanagi Suzaku (both murdered, both outstanding ninja and the previous heads of the Kusanagi clan), sister to the missing Kusanagi Yasuo (presumably in the company of Orochimaru or dead), and adopted daughter of the highly renowned Hatake Kakashi (Jounin, ex-ANBU); easily frustrated, easily hurt, stubborn, pig-headed, crude, blunt, hyperactive, all-around bitch, boyish behavior half of the time.

No one really quite knows her all that well, what with her being on the mysterious side. She's only a well-rounded shinobi to pretty much everybody. They know nothing of the hardships and destructions in her past or the flaws in her personality. No one knows her even though she'd been within their midst in Konohagakure no Sato for a long eight years of her life. She was born in Sunagakure no Sato, the Sand Village, but her vast and skilled clan had been almost completely destroyed. Few members remained. Very few. Two at the most. She made a weak journey to Konohagakure shortly after at only the age of five, alone and ill. Bandits were all around, older ninja passed as they embarked on their missions, and princes and princesses came from all over in their lavishly decorated chariots. Then, soon to start on his own mission, Hatake Kakashi stumbled upon the weakened blond child and quickly stole her away into a hospital. Without much thought or careful consideration, the silver-haired boy adopted her. Hatake was only around the age of fifteen, but even he couldn't leave a child to die.

~

Yuki let out a soft and irritable sigh, running her thin, calloused fingers through her long purple hair, occasionally twirling a few of the thick strands around her pinky. She frowned slightly, her reddened eyes flitting about the room in hurried twitches, strained from almost severe sleep deprivation. She tapped her thumb on her lightly freckled cheek, each time harder than the first until her nail left a mark under her eye. A small huff and she closed her burning eyes, leaning her head down on her arms.

If only she could've gotten more sleep the night before, she would be more prepared for the events of today. But Hatake Kakashi wouldn't let her sleep with all of his calm bickering and strategy talk, going on and on about the importance of caution, stealth, concentration, and how strong Yuki had become in all the years she'd been under his careful watch and training, how intelligent she became in the eight short years she'd been in his company, and how quickly she advanced in the academy (it took her only about two or three months to advance). It went on for hours and hours and into the wee hours of the morning, the man's voice never wavering or trailing off into sleepy mumbles. No. His voice was the same from the moment he opened his mouth until Yuki's body decided to go to sleep standing up in the kitchen with her hand gripping the wooden handle of a frying pan.

Alas, here she was with her head down and eyes closed, the irritating thought of her lack of sleep swirling around in her brain. There was no such thing as getting a wink of sleep in a public place. Especially if that public place just so happened to be a classroom filled with graduated academy students.

She hadn't really noticed (not caring to) the loud clamoring of the afermentioned fresh academy graduates that was so thick in the air, and only now did she even think to pay attention to it. By the sound of it, the whole thirty-by-thirty room was packed full with noisy students and with the increase of noise, that meant there was a growing influx of all the graduating students. The more students that flocked in, the sooner the genin orientation was going to start. That meant that she would get put on a squad of three. Well, a squad of four considering the fact that there was an odd amount of students and if that number was divided, there would be one extra student. So, someone was going to be an extra on a squad.

It didn't really matter so long as everyone was on a squad.

Yuki groaned minutely, lifting her head slowly. It would be best not to fall asleep when the orientation began for two reasons: the first, if she fell asleep, she wouldn't exactly be able to tell what team she was on and she would sleep for way too long, and the second, it's just very unbecoming for a kunoichi of her stature, academy graduate or not. She breathed in coldly and opened her burning red eyes, nodding in agreement to her own thoughts and found herself staring blatantly at a certain coffee-skinned, dark brown haired, slit-eyed boy working his way through the crowd of students with a sly grin on his cocky, tattooed face. She blinked at him, making note of the small white dog barking happily in the front of his hood. She sighed. Her reaction was almost automatic, a conditioned response to the sight of someone new and different. But the boy wasn't exactly new or different. He was a classmate that Yuki had sat next to once upon a time when she first started at the academy. She had ignored him the whole time until she got fed up with his constant dozing and cocky blathering and moved herself to another desk.

It wasn't that he was annoying. It was that she didn't like show-offs or show-offy behavior.

"Oi, Kusanagi," quipped that _cocky fucking voice_. A calloused hand slapped down on the desk and the tapping of individual fingers followed, the noises grating on Yuki's too-sensitive and already strained ears.

She frowned and let out an irritated groan, her reddened eyes shifting from the sharpened nails of Inuzuka Kiba's hand right up to the red triangle tattooed on his creased-with-a-frighteningly-over-confident-grin left cheek, her thin eyebrows furrowing. There were two problems. One, he knew her by name and judging by his overall demeanor, he was most likely bad at memorizing things. And two, he was standing before her, leaning over her desk and staring down at her with his mischievous eyes like she was lunch. But, the former was the one that bothered her the most, unlike the latter which is the one she _should_ be worried about.

He knew her fucking _name_.

If he were captured by an enemy and she withheld important information or was a 'key' to a 'lock', he could leak some of that information or the location of which she was in, thus revealing who and what she was. If someone was strange and creepy was seeking her out (without knowing her name), he could tell that person her name and that person could find her address and stalk her and continuously be a _fucking creeper_. There were a number of scenarios that could end badly for Yuki. It would inevitably end badly for Inuzuka as well, what with the simple fact she would _beat the stupid coffee-skinned dog brat to a bloody fucking pulp_.

She breathed in and then out slowly. "What do you want?" she snapped almost viciously, reaching up with her tired hands to run her fingers through her mass of bright purple bangs.

Another cheap, confident grin on Kiba's part. "I wanna sit with ya," he declared, his voice grating on Yuki's ears again.

"Why?" There was no kindness in her voice. Only annoyance and cold sleepiness.

"Why not?" he barked, his grin widening. Without a moment's hesitation or even a second thought (_or even any fucking permission_), the boy slid into the seat beside her, his dog ruffing in mild protest. The small puppy was almost as noisy as the chittering academy graduates, but in a different way.

He wasn't annoying.

But, then again, puppies weren't exactly annoying.

"So...Yu-Yu. What team do ya think you'll be on? Like...with who?"

Yuki gave a frustrated sigh. Another one.

So what, now she had nicknames?

She shook her head, pinching the bridge of her straight nose, letting out yet _another_ sigh. When did he get **this** annoying? Back when Yuki was first attending the academy, the Inuzuka _was_ someone irritating, but he didn't say her name or gave her nicknames. Hell, he didn't even talk to her. At least, not really. Every once in a while, he would try to strike up conversation, but to no avail. She would ignore him, he would snort and return to barking at his friends. When he did so, he would just speak in such a snappy and cocky manner and the mere sound would grate on her poor, over-sensitive ears. Eventually, she just got up and moved. The noises the Inuzuka would make were just impossible to deal with. As animalistic as Yuki was herself, Kiba was even moreso.

"Inuzuka-san, I don't care," she muttered gruffly, closing her stinging eyes.

What reason did she have to care? She would be placed on a three-man team, each member selected to balance out the others, and she would have to work with them no matter who they were and how awful or how good their skills were. It did not matter. Her teammates could be black, light-skinned, tanned, intelligent, stupid, strong, weak, losers, winners, skilled, skill less. She didn't care. _Because no matter who they were, she had to get along with them and work with them as if they were all of them a machine, a singular unit._

If she were to care about the contents and quality of her team members, then she would be more concerned of how they looked and whether or not they were good or bad. She would be labeled as a 'bitch' for labeling others. There was just no use in-

"Yuki? Oi!" barked that too-cocky voice again, quieter and more personal. The grating sound rang in her ears like a shrill bell, clanging around in her head.

This _fucking idiot..._

"What do you-"

"Hey, Yuki-chan!" a kindly male voice belonging to that of the purple-haired girl's friend, Hasegawa Senri, entered the small exchange of useless conversation with calmness and an underlying tone suggestion that he knew how Yuki needed saving (though she didn't actually need it).

She turned her head and gazed up at the boy, a small smile gracing her features.

Senri had a messy mop of dark brown hair that fell into his intense orange eyes and framed his face, a seemingly permanent and good natured grin always on his face. He was kind and thoughtful, putting his friends and family before himself always. He was a very tall boy and his height at his age (14) was a bit scary to some people because, by the time he was 20, they all said, he would grow to be at least six-feet-and-five-inches tall or approaching seven-foot mark.

"Hello, Senri-kun. How are you?" Yuki asked warmly, taking this moment to completely steal her attention away from Kiba and place it on her friend.

"I just came here. I'm pretty excited. We'll be genin now, Yuki-chan!" he replied simply, grinning all the way.

Yuki smiled.

Senri had an affinity for always being happy about everything, namely simple things. He was very happy about _this_. It must have been pretty big for him, graduating the academy and finally becoming a genin. He would finally be able to advance in the ninja world, show his sensei (whoever it was) that he was a good enough shinobi too. This was all Senri really wanted.

"I know. I hope we can train together," Yuki murmured, her eyes fixed on Senri's. They were a cloudy but intense orange. His eyes were small contradictions with gentleness gracing their roundness, a smile creasing the corners.

She did hope that she could be with him. After all, he was her friend, and friends stick together.

"I do, too, Yuki," he said softly, his grin widening. "Do you mind if I sit next to you? I have a feeling the orientation is about to start."

"Of course," she said, nodding her head slowly and scooting over a few inches to make room for her tall friend.

She was surprised that Kiba hadn't yet barked in protest, his attention probably on his dog after Yuki turned away from him. Strange. She always thought that Kiba would be a little more persistent, yet he had not been, his spirits probably dampened by Senri's sudden entrance. The Inuzuka boy was an odd one, only persisting when no one of value was around.

Whatever the case, who cares?

Senri took the seat that Yuki made for him and sat down, sliding in beside his friend. She looked at him and smiled, a frown replacing that kind gesture as a headache stabbed at, well, her head. She sighed and leaned her head back down on her arms.

"Are you okay, Yuki-chan?" the boy asked worriedly, a large hand patting her back gently. "I can take you home if you need me to..."

"No, I'm fine." Definite. Yuki huffed and lifted her head back up. "I'm not missing my genin orientation just because I'm tired and have a headache."

The boy looked at her for a moment and shook his head. "If you say so."

She turned her attention forward as the chitter of the academy graduates came to crashing halt, her eyes finding the nasal scar of Umino Iruka-sensei, watching as he crossed his arms over his flak-vested chest and smiled at the class with approval. He would probably begin his speech soon, seeing as how the room was dead silent and that he had everyone's attention. Iruka-sensei should probably take advantage of this...

The brown-haired man took a second to clear his throat and his proud, approving smile seemed to widen all the more.

"As of today, you are all real ninja," he began, beaming. His voice was a little nasal, calm, but it was full of his afermentioned pride and happiness for his students.

Yuki just had to smile too, running her clawed fingers through her purple hair.

"But you are still merely rookie genin. The hard part has only just started. Now..." He paused and Yuki watched as the newly pronounced genin shifted in their seats with excitement or slumped with disappointment. Rank didn't matter much to her, so long as she could progress. Another clear of his throat and Iruka continued. "You will soon be assigned duties by the village."

Another pause.

_Wow, sensei. You're really taking your time with this_, Yuki thought, twirling a piece of hair around her fingers. He really was. He kept pausing and picking his orientation announcement back up then pausing again and so on. It's not that it was annoying. It's just no one really wanted to sit here all day. They would have to do so anyway with their jounin sensei when it came time for introductions. _Just speed it up already..._

And...still that pause continued.

Iruka-sensei was letting it all soak in, Yuki decided. She huffed and shook her head.

"Yuki," Senri whispered, leaning in close to the girl. "This is taking longer than I thought it would."

She shushed him, covering his mouth with her hands. "Be quiet!" she whispered frantically in return.

"So today we will be creating the three-man teams...and each team will have a Jounin sensei. You will follow that sensei's instructions as you complete the assigned duties," Iruka-sensei explained, making his typical hand-motions as he went on.

_Blah, blah, blah... I've heard this all before. We already know all of this. Just get to the good part_, she thought bitterly, releasing Senri's face and placing her hands back on the table, tapping her sharp nails on the wooden surface.

She was bored. Already. She just wanted to know who her friggin' sensei was!

"We tried to balance each team's strengths."

_Here it is... His announcement of the teams_.

"First, Team Two: Hasegawa Senri-"

The very first syllable had Yuki's artificially colored eyes planted firmly on Senri, slightly widened. He was smiling, but it was forced. He was worried and she could see it clear-as-day. She was too. She may not be on his team, and they both were afraid of that.

"-Inuzuka Kiba-"

A scoff had Yuki turning to face the dog boy, a frown jerking at the corners of her lips. Why did he get to be on the same team as Senri? She growled inwardly. Stupid dog.

"-and Kusanagi Yuki."

Her heart skipped a beat and she deadpanned, turning her head to face Iruka-sensei, noticing that shifty twinkle in his eye. That _bastard_.

Before she could protest, he smoothed right over and continued. "Next, Team Seven: Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura, and Uchiha Sasuke."

Just the mentioning of that _emo fucktard_'s name had Yuki gasping for air, her face and overall demeanor ridden with disgust. She let out a... less than quiet cough containing the word 'fucktard' and turned away from Iruka-sensei, her eyes sagging shut, and her head down on her arms.

She was going to catch so much hell from all the girls later.

"Iruka-sensei, why does an outstanding ninja like me have to be on the same team as that bum, Sasuke-teme?" Uzumaki Naruto (you just mistake his voice. Impossible.) snapped, the screeching of wood on wood ringing in Yuki's ears, making her headache worse. She frowned and lifted her head back up, a hand drifting to her pouch.

"Sasuke's grades were second among all thirty graduates. Naruto, you were dead last!" Iruka-sensei quelled, his voice booming and almost cruel. "We have to do this to balance the teams. Understand?"

"Sasuke-sama was only second?" Yuki heard someone nearby whisper.

"Yeah. Kusanagi-sama kinda always had a higher score so she was first..." another person would whisper back.

She frowned. People talk too much.

"It's because her dad is Hatake Kakashi-sama... He's the Copy Ninja and he used to be ANBU. Now he's a jounin."

She growled and whipped around, glaring right at the odd-looking couple who were gabbing right behind her. "What are you, our fucking groupies?" she snapped queitly, a snarl painted on her face.

As she bickered with these two offending know-it-alls, her ears perked up and she stopped her hand and frowned deeply, turning away to face forward again. It would be best not to cause a scene. She was already goin to catch hell from the girls, she knew, but if she incapacitated another genin at orientation, she would catch all kinds of hell from **all** kinds of high-ranking ninja. Fuck that.

She didn't wanna die yet.

"Team Eight," Iruka just skimmed over everything, "Hyuuga Hinata, Aburame Shino, and Hana Kuni."

_Hana Kuni? Who the fuck is that?_

"Team Nine: Yamanaka Ino, Nara Shikamaru, and Akimichi Chouji."

_Ew, cool, and ew. The next Three Stooges. Great._ Yuki shook her head and pinched her nose, listening with mild disinterest as Iruka listed off the rest of the teams. There were ten teams this year, it seemed. If you divide thirty by three, you get ten. She sighed and paid little attention to the new prodding in both of her sides, shaking her head throughout the rest of orientation.

People suck, she concluded seemingly out of nowhere. She had an idiot on her team and the rest of the rookie twelve were idiots. Except for Senri. He was the one exception. The only exception. Everyone else was just...ugh. She should her head for the millionth time.

A hand gently pinched at her shoulder. Blinking her eyes open, she looked up at Senri, a confused look in his eyes, and a lip-curl on his face as if to say 'don't look at me, I'm not touching you'. Her eyebrows furrowed and she turned her head to look at the Inuzuka boy, a small grin gracing his lips.

Immediately, as if on cue, she grew irate.

"The fuck did you touch me for?" she quipped, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Just wanted to get your attention, yo. The jounin are here," Kiba explained calmly, his voice rough and nonchalant.


	2. Childhood

**A/N:: This is all in Amaya's POV.**

It was barely midday, the ever-brightening orange-yellow sun burning down on my nearly bare shoulders as I ran through the hot red sand, chasing after another kid my age. I couldn't resist the need to pant and breathe quickly, bolting after the kid. Trying to follow closely whomever it was that I was trailing behind to reach the safe zone [which was a small hill of reddish-brown sand], I felt two fingers jab into my sun-burned shoulder. I winced. That hurt... like hell. Whipping around to face the ass-hole of a tagger, I glared at him. Sandy brown hair. Dark brown eyes. Ass-hole smile. He was a few years older...and obviously an ass-hole. And I knew exactly who he was: Sabaku no Kankurou, eldest son of the ass-hole-ish Kazekage.

Hissing out of frustration [it's not like I actually want to be it, you know], growling and cursing under my breath, I spun sideways, scanning for an easy victim as that ass-hole laughed like an ass-hole and walked away. But, my attention was stolen from the idiots in the field of sand...By a flaming mess of bloody-red hair and pretty sea-foam eyes that seemed to score the skin beside my skinny black markings on my cheeks and arms. There was a kanji above his left eye, yet I can't tell what it is...

He sat quietly and lonely-like in a swing hidden by the shade of an overhang connected to an oddly shaped abode. His ashamed and angry stare at his black sandle-clad feet was slightly...I guess, unnerving. And very familiar. I've seen those reflective sea-foam eyes before; pained and completely alone. At the academy, I sit right next to this boy, but I don't really know his name. I just don't care enough to pay attention to my classmates' names. The worthless bastards...

I mean, I like keeping things to myself. I like having no friends. Well, no real friends. Life's just less dramatic that way. Sure, they all play with me. Invite me to a game of tag or soccer or kick-ball. Sure. I appreciate the excess attention. But I don't want it.

'You know that's not true.'

Even then... I don't like attention. At least, not from these hateful idiots... If they ever found out that I was a jinchuuriki, there would be rock-throwing and exhile and exclusion and supposed-to-be hurtful comments. More irritations. Those black markings on my cheeks {{like Naruto's whisker marks, only there's five and they're like diamonds-fat-ish in the middle and pointed on each end}} were the obvious clues to my being a container of a tailed beast. It amazes me how no one has found that out yet...

But as I turned to get a full view of him, seeing him sort of struck me. Hard. His sadness...Plus his being here baffled me. I knew about the hate everyone held towards him just because he was a jinchuuriki. I can't wrap my head around why he'd be here. Should I...?

'You should.'

Lifting my reddened arm, I waved away at the other children to continue without me, my gaze firmly fixated on this boy. Disappointed and disgusted mutters followed me as I stepped cautiously toward the boy that swung yards upon yards away. I knew what he could do, having seen and heard about it; I wasn't the least bit scared. I could do much worse than him... But I still had to be ready for a killer beat-down from a thick tendril of sand.

The chains of the swing quietly clinked together as he lightly pushed himself to move. I guess I must have cleared most of the distance because I was now three feet awat from him. I padded closer, less tense, but he didn't even notice me. Quirking an eyebrow, I stopped maybe six-inches away. And, this time, he glanced up.

His expression... Just...heart-breaking. He just...stared back at me, with those beautifully broken eyes. I attempted to wonder if he really was as bad as they say.

He opened his mouth, and, in a horrifyingly depressed voice, he growled, "What doyou want?"

I stood there, shaking my head slowly from side to side, a little caught off guardby that odd sound escaping his lips. Considering the way everyone acted when he wasnearby, I couldn't just ask him why he used that tone.

"Keep staring and I'll kill you," he grumbled.

You know what? I'll just leave then. Threatening MY life after I decided to come over here and get to know him and...Uh-uh. No. So I turned, crossingmy arms over my chest, readying myself to walk off.

"Wait..." So small and hurt... That voice just made me wanna cry... Phucc. Ialready hate this kid. Trying to get me to cry...

Glancing over my shoulder at him, I felt an expectant expression creeping across myface. Scrutinizing his eyebrow-less face in return, sighing exasperatedly, I pivotedmy body untill I completely faced him. I dropped down to sit cross-legged, thinkingabout what it would be like to be him.

What would it be like to be him?

'Idiot. You're exactly like him; save for phuccing dark purple hair, dark purple eyes, and black markings.'

I scowled inwardly.

"You..." the boy began flatly, hesitating, probably debating on a good way to killme. .

"I what?" I snapped impatiently, getting irritated by the slowness. Spit it outalready! Damn. Tapping my fingers on my knee, drawing small circles in the cool sandaround me, I gazed up at him, quirking my eyebrow as I waited for him to finish.

"You're name's Amaya, ne?" Oh, he knew? There's a first. His expression seemed tosoften. I thought, nodding a reply to his question.

Leaning back on my hands, I glared back at the ones I left behind. They all glaredat me with disgust and contempt, all standing in a line that spread across thefield. "Whatta bunch of pretentious bastards..." I hissed quietly, believing that noone could hear.

The truth is, I don't care about them. They hate and hurt this kid for nogoddamn reason. Besides, I'm just fine without them all, probably betteroff too. They're all just so full of shitt... I've put up with the bullshitt for too long.

"If you talk to me, all they're gonna do is hate you and throw rocks at you, too."That voice jerked me from the path of murderous intent. I glanced up at him withslightly widened eyes. That totally surprised me. Does he care?

"As if I give a damn what they think anything. They're just a bunch of losersanyway," I replied, monotone. But, with a small smile, I leapt up to my feet,holding my right hand out to him. I've grown tired of the sadness and anger. AndI've just decided something.

He didn't take my hand right away, as I had expected. Instead, he glancd from mytiny fingers to my face, confused as hell.

Funny, I think this one's different. Maybe he's just...misunderstood? Or maybehe's... I dunno. But he doesn't seem so bad, even with the knowledge I have of , his hesitance is starting to annoy me. "Go on. Take my hand."

Still he stared, utterly lost. But as he lifted his arm, reaching for my hand, I could see his nearly unnoticable tremble. Poor kid... His skin was cold, almostdevoid of all warmth. Ooo, shocking. I blinked and yanked him up, my smile fadinginto a flat line. I just noticed something. He's taller than me and he's supposed to be the shortest kid at the academy. Not phuccing cool. Ugh...

"What?" he grumbled quietly, looking down at me with somewhat annoyed, black-rimmedeyes.

Realizing that my pool of irritated and/or envious thoughts were innevitably goingto drown me, I stared back at him. That questioning stare of his was a little...unnerving. But I wasn't about to get freaked out over optical organs. 'What's yourname"? I asked, deciding to annoy him further with something so trivial.

He glared at me, puzzled by my sudden question. Perhaps even more puzzled by how unbearably long it took for me to ask. His forehead creased before he blurted out his answer. "Sabaku no Gaara."

Of course! Why couldn't I think of it before? He was the youngest son of theKazekage. What the hell made me forget...? Oh well...

I sighed. "Well then, Dou itashimashite." Turning, I dragged him along, escaping from the harsh glares the other kids threw us. The field eventually spat us out intoa very crowded street. Very crowded. That and it was extremely hotalready. Body heat+sun=...heat stroke. -_-

Little beads of sweat rolled down from my forehead, dripping onto my sunburntshoulders. My skin ached from being out in the sun for too long. It hurt even more,what with the scorching glares from the crowd making way for us.

Ugh. Phucc it. I don't care.

"Friends?" she mumbled through the silence. Friends? Why'd she ask that? Watch something horrible happen...

"Sure," Gaara replied in Amaya's ear. His voice had a certain edge to it. Was it...uncertainty? Appreciation? Sarcasm?

'You over analyze everything. '

She guessed the stupid demon's right. It could just be nothing. She supposed that maybe this friendship will be built on similarity, not on lies... Hmm.

'You think WAY too much, too.'

A slight roll of her eyes and someone decided that it would be a good idea to throw rocks.


	3. Running Away to Die

The sun had set, casting long, dark orange shadows across the flat, pillowed sky that had just begun to darken. Wind whistled through the thick green branches, twisting and batting at the already swirling leaves. Trees parted and made way for a winding dirt path, overhanging to give shade. Orange rays still shone through, lighting the way.

Twigs and shriveled leaves snapped and crunched underfoot as she ran, each stride quickening. Her destination was nowhere in sight, but still she bolted forward. She had been on the run for three months now, traversing from village to village in search of a safe place to hide. Sweat trickled down her forehead, sliding down to soak her dark purple scarf.

There were four trailing behind, their chakra signatures slowly diminishing until they were gone. Had they stopped following?

The breath in her lungs was strangling her, burning her insides. After being cooped up in a room no bigger than the size of a small apartment, surrounded by thick scrolls, for a good four years, one would find it hard to be fit. She let out a harsh cough, tiny knives seeming to drag down her throat. Her hands fluttered up, an attempt to soothe.

She forced herself to stop moving, collapsing into the tree she just now stood by. The protruding brown bark, now adorned with the dark orange light of the sinking sun, dug into her back. Having taught herself never to feel exterior pain, she couldn't feel it. Nor would she care to.

Breaths came easier, nowhere near as painful and difficult as before. She pushed herself away from the tree, the bark leaving oddly shaped indents in her clothed skin. Standing up straight, she took in a shaky breath. Then it hit her.

Four chakra signatures. Four bodies. Four men ready to brutally murder her. They wore such ugly uniforms... A purple rope tied around the waist; horrible light grey, unbuttoned shirts; black fingerless gloves; black pants and shoes.

"Hello, Amaya," one slimy voice stated slyly.

'No! Why'd I stop?'

Dimming sunlight revealed their disgusting faces; twisted and scarred, painted and rebuilt. These men were once under her command. They were once her followers. How... noble of her ex-sensei, ex-subordinate, ex-friend to send them after her.

"Hello, Tatsuke," Amaya wheezed, releasing her own throat. Jaw set, expression blank, she knew that no matter what she did, she wouldn't get out alive. She had little to no chakra left.

'There's always me, kid. I'm your trump card. Let me out and I'll take care of them for you,' a slick voice echoed from the inner recesses of Amaya. 'Listen to me and I'll save you.'

Liar. Houkou was such a sucky liar.

Only one heartbeat could be heard. The surrounding men were merely toys, heartless puppets of Orochimaru. Amaya's lips curled back in disgust, glaring down the supposed Tatsuke, who seemed to be a Kimimaro wanna-be. The only difference being the lack of make-up and longer hair.

Orochimaru had been her teacher, her friend, her subordinate. He had taught her most of what she knew and doted on her like she was his favorite. But the bastard was also a murderer and... an evil cow. The man switched from body to body in hopes of living forever. It was sickening. At one moment in time, a year ago, he wanted to use Amaya as his 'vessel'. Yet, he didn't because of the repercussions. There were certain things he would never be prepared to deal with. So he backed off of that idea and began his search for a more... fitting 'vessel'. And about three months ago, Amaya wanted to leave and start her own search. But of something much more normal, like a real friend or maybe even her sister and brother. Orochimaru didn't like that at all.

Weight shifted and the next thing she knew, they were circling her. Vengeful smirks tattooed their ugly faces.

'Play it cool.'

A slow sigh, her eyelids slowly sagged shut over her intense purple irises. Dust and dirt rumbled quietly under her once favored followers' feet as they moved in a sluggish circle around her person. She stood perfectly still, listening to their movements. Soft, quick swishes.

Something warm and wet began to trickle from a fresh cut on her cheek, dripping down like molasses. Same could be said for the other cheek. As for her arms and legs. A gash on her exposed stomach, in particular, gushed the hot liquid coursing through her veins.

More swishes. "I thought you'd put up a fight, Ami. I thought you'd wanna kill us." More gashes and cuts. "Turns out I was wrong," Tatsuke pointed out, disappointed. But he followed that up with a murderous cackle.

Tatsuke was her favorite little desciple, for lack of a better term. The wanna-be always sided with her whenever she and Orochimaru argued over certain matters. But ever since she left, he's betrayed the loyalty he had for her and volunteered to hunt her down.

'If all he's going to do is mock me and give me scratches, he won't get very far,' Amaya mumbled inwardly, her fingers giving the slightest twitch at the thought.

She was... usually a bloodlusting, murderous person. But during her confinement, she had forced herself into a stoic shell of her former self, afraid of the harm she could inflict unto the one person that she might possibly feel something for. However, that one boy was never going to forgive her for leaving, never going to let her be anywhere near him because she left...

It's been five years since Amaya deserted her home village, Sunagakure. Before she had left, she befriended a boy, a boy similar to her. Friendless, emotionless, lonely, tired, quiet, sad, angry, violent. A boy just like her. Yet, she kept herself different from him. Instead of murdering, she would analyze other people and decide whether or not they were worth her time.

Moving along... She met this boy in a field of that unmistakable light brown sand. The time was around noon, judging from the position of the sun. Academy students flocked together to play stupid games like kick-ball or soccar, sometimes tag. None of these people she found particularly interesting. They were all so... bland and hateful.

She could notice and note how the other kids would exclude this boy she had soon befriended. Let's just say it wasn't her cup of tea. Stoic as always, she quietly made her way over to him, ridden with emptiness. Emotions hadn't mattered to her at the time, so she didn't keep them on a leash.

Red hair, sea-foam eyes, no eyebrows. Amaya had to admit that the boy looked funny, but in a cute way. Kinda like a chipmunk.

This boy was horribly misunderstood and treated badly. She could sympathize since her sister would always attempt to murder her, since the wolf demon Houkou was sealed inside her, since she looked like she never slept either. A few steps toward him and the glaring contest began.

The walk down memory lane had been interrupted.

A brutal strike to her abdomen. She found herself in the air, suspended by a hand soaked in the blood seeping from the long wound just below her belly-button, facing the ground. And for the first time in a long time, she sensed a certain tingle. A pain that she was never supposed to feel again.

Years ago, as been explained before, she taught herself to never feel exterior pain. It would only get in the way, slow her down. She hated pain. Absolutely despised it. Not because it hurt, but because she didn't want to know how it felt to die. She wanted death to be painless. Now those foreign pangs of agony were going to slowly return.

Now... she was scared. And her second to last resort was her only option.

"No!" Amaya shrieked, blowing her composure. Her bleeding arms bolting in front of her, fingers forming the necessary hand-signs for the one jutsu that would make them go away.

A gust of cutting winds swirled around harshly, forcing deep slices to surface in the skin of her enemies. The leaf-and-twig littered ground rumbled around them all, slowly cracking and inching its way up the four men's legs. Essentially, the earth was going to be a thick weight, keeping the four cemented to the ground for the painful beating soon to come.

Amaya was sweating rivers, she was so horrified.

The air suddenly became cooler, freezing like the frost-bitten winds in winter. Icicles were forming, that much was apparent.

But before she could see it through to the end..., everything went black and she was on a collision course with the crunchy leaves and twigs hiding the path.


End file.
